


The Moments In Between

by Dragonheart37



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Mind Control, Implied/Referenced Sex, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, One Shot, One Shot Collection, alternate title Author Had Too Many Emotions Over The Agent Storyline, tags will be added as this updates, whenever KotFE onward comes into play it'll be marked with SPOILERS in the chapter summary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2020-12-14 16:44:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21018983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonheart37/pseuds/Dragonheart37
Summary: A collection of one-shots. Currently contains characters and scenes from between-scenes in the Imperial Agent storyline of SWTOR; this may change as time goes on.EDIT: Now with post-class storyline stuff, still with the same characters. (I've decided that if I write one-shots focusing on characters from other class storylines, they'll get their own fic; if it's focused on Eris or the Agent storyline NPCs, it'll go here.)In which Erisine Ganne, AKA Cipher Nine, deals with the emotional fallout of the events of the Agent storyline, often with the help and support of her Joiner partner.





	1. Hospital Visit

**Author's Note:**

> In which Eris pays a visit to SIS agent Chance while he's in the hospital recovering from his near-death experience. (Alternate title: The Author Got Really Emotional Over The Letter You Get If You Spare Chance's Life.)

Eris tried to ignore the prickles down her spine. Being on Coruscant had _not_ been in her plan, but here she was, and as long as she was here already...

No one would stop her in a hospital, anyway. She flashed the keycard the young Twi'lek at the front desk had given her in front of a scanner, and the hospital room door slid open to admit her with a cheerful beep.

The Human man sitting up in bed looked up as she entered, faint surprise morphing into full-on shock when he recognized her. “Legate,” he said. “I almost didn't recognize you out of uniform. What are you doing here?”

Eris folded her arms across her chest. “Can't I just stop in now and then to see a friend?”

“I... suppose,” he said slowly, pink tinging his ears. “I'm sorry, I'm just – surprised, that's all.”

She scanned the room as he spoke – habit, mostly; here in the heart of the Republic she wouldn't be able to do much if something went wrong – and sat in the bedside chair. “I hear you're on the mend.”

“Thanks to you,” Chance agreed. He hesitated. “...I know I already said it once, in my message to you, but... you didn't have to save me. Why did you?”

_You're alive, and you have control, but you trust me now. You're useful._ The truth flickered in the back of her mind, but she didn't speak it, instead just crossing her arms again. “Just because I was Imperial doesn't mean I don't have morals,” she told him. “You've been kind. Mostly.”

The dark bitterness that tinged her last words wasn't even a lie. Eris was used to disguising her emotions to get results. Letting the truth show was almost a novelty. But it had the desired effect – Chance's ears went pink again, and he looked suitably uncomfortable. “Legate, I'm... I'm sorry about what happened. What I did.”

Her fingers tightened on her sleeve. “You told me you wouldn't,” she said quietly, letting her anger seep into her voice. “And then you did it anyway. Why?”

He looked down, rolling the edge of his blanket between his hands. “Things went wrong,” he reminded her. “I thought... I thought I might die there. I was just... scared.”

“You think I wasn't _scared?_” Eris snapped. “You think I'm not scared every minute of every day now, knowing what's in my brain? My willpower was stripped from me, I had no _choice_ but to obey a command _I was already going to choose._ Do you have any _idea_ how _scary_ that is, Chance?”

He startled. “I -”

“Do you have any _concept_ of what it's like to be locked inside your own head, watching your body follow whatever orders it's given without your consent, _screaming_ and no one can hear you?” she demanded. “Do you have _any idea?_”

She stopped herself cold, clenched her jaw on the fire and acid she wanted to rain down on him. She was letting her emotions get out of control; it was too easy to let her anger and fear bleed through too far. _Deep breaths. Control._

Chance, seemingly unaware of her reining herself back in, winced. “I can't honestly say I do,” he murmured. “I'm sorry, Legate. What I did was wrong. I know that.”

Eris took a deep breath in through her nose, trying to calm herself and failing. “Does it make a difference?” she asked, at least managing to _sound_ calmer. “You did it anyway.” _Remember the act._ “I came to the Republic because I thought you were _better,_” she hissed, rubbing her forehead. “But it's _worse_ here. Somehow it's worse.”

Chance was cringing now, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else but here. “Kriff,” he muttered. “You really know how to make a guy feel guilty, don't you? 'Course, I probably deserve it, after the stunt I pulled.”

She looked away, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to pretend to herself that the tears she scrubbed angrily out of her eyes were false. The silence held for only a few seconds longer before Chance broke. “Why _did_ you come here, really?” he asked softly.

_Good question._ “I'm not sure,” she admitted after a moment. “Maybe I just wanted to get this off my chest. Scream where someone can hear me, for once.”

“So you _did_ come to make me feel guilty.”

“No,” she grumbled. “But it is making me feel a bit better.”

He huffed a half-laugh. “Well, I suppose I can't fault you for that.” He paused. “I really am sorry, Legate. You don't deserve this. I can see that now.”

_You don't see anything – not Kothe's plan, not mine._ “Well, if Intelligence taught me anything, it's that life isn't fair,” she said flatly, looking up at him in time to see him flinch. It put the seed of an idea in her head – plant enough guilt, and it might create doubt; keep suggesting the Republic was managing to be even worse than the Empire, and she might even be able to turn Chance to the Empire's side. Of course, if he wasn't coming back on duty, that was of minimal use to them, but he might have connections she could use yet.

She put it aside to think on later. At that moment, her anger was too raw to think clearly. “I should go,” she sighed, standing. “Kothe will probably want to give me my next binding order.”

She held her tongue this time, kept the venom in the last two words to just the faintest bite and tempered it with weary resignation, and saw exactly the desired guilt and pity play across Chance's face. He really _was_ too easy. “Hey, Legate,” he said, as she reached the door, and she turned to look over her shoulder. “I'll talk to Kothe. I don't know how much I can do, but... maybe I can convince him to lay off you a little, at least.”

The surprise was an act, the uncertain hope only half of one. “I'd appreciate that,” she murmured. “Goodbye, Chance.”

“Good luck, Legate. May the Force be with you.”


	2. Midnight Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Vector finds his agent awake at an ungodly hour and tries his best to be supportive even though she won't (can't) tell him what's wrong.

“Eris?”

Eris jerked her head up, tensing, then slumped again when she saw who it was. “Vector. I didn't hear you come in.” _Sloppy._ The automatic self-reprimand barely even stung.

The Joiner sat next to her. “I'm sorry, Vector,” she sighed. “I didn't mean to wake you.”

“You didn't,” he assured her. “We find sleep... difficult, sometimes, as the standard cycle drifts from the day cycle in the nest.”

She nodded. “The time drift can take some adjusting. I imagine it's worse when you're still linked with other minds on a different sleep-wake cycle.”

Vector shrugged. “It is what it is. We manage. But _you_ are usually not awake at this hour.”

Eris sighed. “I'm all right. That last mission was... rough on me. That's all.”

He was quiet for a moment, and she knew he was trying to determine whether he should press her or not. At last he murmured, “You seem more and more tired lately, Eris, like the stress is getting to you. You know you can trust us.”

She choked out a laugh and stood to pace across the room, restless and exhausted all at once. “Trust. All this espionage and intrigue, playing double agent, triple agent...” She shook her head. “I don't know if I know _how_ to trust anymore.”

“It's not a good thing to forget,” he reminded her gently, and she turned back to see him standing as well. “If we cannot trust each other, we have lost anything worth fighting for. Community is what keeps us alive and well.”

She cracked a weak smile. “Killiks teach you that?”

His black eyes twinkled with a smile. She'd found those eyes eerie at first, but over time she'd grown used to them, and they were just... normal, now. Just Vector. “The nest is everything, to Killiks. We retain some degree of individuality, as Dawn Herald, but we are still bonded to the nest, and we still know the importance of community. Family.”

Eris let silence fall, just watching his face. No matter how long she searched, she found nothing but concern and compassion.

At last she heaved a sigh and walked into his arms, wrapping her arms around him and hiding her face in his chest.

He hesitated, as if surprised by the physical display of emotion, but a moment later he returned the embrace, holding her tight against him. She understood his surprise; she rarely allowed herself to be this vulnerable, but she just couldn't take this anymore. She couldn't even tell him what was _wrong,_ bound by her programming. He held her anyway, warm and solid and _safe_. Eris closed her eyes, just breathing in his scent – stars, if the warm spice-musk clinging to him smelled this good to her, how must it smell to another Joiner? Much less a Killik proper? She couldn't begin to imagine.

“We know you're upset, and you feel like you can't tell us why,” he murmured, and he must have felt her tense, because he tightened his grip on her a fraction. “It's all right. We don't blame you for that. When you're ready, you know you can tell us.” He touched her cheek hesitantly, cupping her face in his hand when she leaned into the touch. “Until then, just tell us what you need. We're here to help you. We are here for you.”

Eris sighed and dropped her head against his chest again, his heartbeat steady in her ear. “You seem to know what I need before I do, sometimes,” she mumbled. “Sometimes I just... need to be reminded that there _are_ people in my corner. People I can trust.” She chuckled. “Well. One person, at least.”

She could hear his smile in his voice. “Two, I think. Raina seems rather enamored with you. Devoted, even. I can't imagine her betraying you easily.”

“Two, then.” He was probably right. But it wasn't the same, at least not yet. Vector had been with her for weeks on weeks; Raina had only just joined them. Eris was barely getting a handle on Raina.

But Vector... Vector she trusted. Vector she felt safe enough with to let herself be vulnerable in his arms, to just let herself be held and comforted. Vector was safe.

Safety and trust were so hard to come by in this line of work, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would die for one (1) bug man
> 
> I have so many feelings about Vector trying so hard to be supportive during the entire mind control thing despite having no idea what's going on; he's doing his best


	3. Explanations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Eris can finally explain why she's had to be so secretive in past weeks, and Vector finally understands what he's been missing.
> 
> CHAPTER CONTENT WARNINGS: Implied sex at the end (fade-to-black)

“Vector, may I have a word in my quarters, when you're available?”

Vector looked up from his datapad, mild surprise flashing across his face. “Of course.” He set the datapad aside and stood to follow her. “This can be done later. It's not important.”

She didn't protest, just let him follow her into her private quarters and closed the door behind them. He stood in the center of her room, head tilted in a silent question, and she sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, patting the mattress beside her. “I owe you an explanation, Vector. One I haven't been able to give you until now, no matter how much I wanted to.”

“Is this about Ardun Kothe?” he asked slowly, sitting beside her.

“Sort of. But it begins with Intelligence.”

And she explained everything to him, from the moment Kothe had flipped the switch in her head and turned her into his slave. She explained to him how she'd found out what Intelligence had done to her and why, how her programming had worked, why she had been forced to be so cryptic with him until this point because she was bound not to discuss it. She explained that she'd been the one to cause the power surge in the Intelligence archives, so she could get to the files on her own programming without being watched and figure out how to reverse it. She explained the serum she'd recreated and the risk she'd had to take by injecting herself with it, rewriting her own programming so no one could ever control her again, leaving herself with a single standing order: Accept no further commands.

When she was finally finished, Vector was quiet for a long time. At some point she'd stopped looking at him, fixing her eyes instead on her hands or the floor between her feet, unable to watch the growing horror and understanding on his face. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft. “This explains... much,” he admitted. “But you're free now?”

She nodded. “Forever. Even if someone could somehow get my new keyword, the command interface is closed permanently. I made sure of that.”

“Eris,” he said, and she forced herself to look up at him. The guilt in his eyes took her by surprise. “We're sorry, Eris. We should have known something was wrong, done something to stop this.”

“Vector, none of this was your fault,” she protested.

“We promised we would help you, and we failed.” He was the one to look away now. “All this time, you've been fighting a battle we weren't even fully aware of.”

“You had no way of knowing,” she told him, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Vector, if you _had_ found out, SIS might have ordered me to kill you to keep the secret safe. Do you -” Her voice threatened to break, and she had to pause to clear her throat. “Do you know what that would have _done_ to me?”

He looked up at her again, conflicted, and she shook her head. “There was nothing you could have done. And it's over now. I just... you deserved to know the truth.”

“We see,” he said softly. “Is there... anything we can do now?”

She hesitated.

Then she leaned in to kiss him.

He startled, but returned it after a moment, soft and sweet. He always was – it wasn't their first kiss, but she never got over that, how gentle and sweet he was. She reached up behind her head and pulled bobby pins and hair tie free, shaking her hair out of its bun and pushing it back out of her face, behind her ears. Vector drew back, watching her with a question in his eyes, and she breathed, “Make me forget. Just – just for a little while. Now that I finally don't have the threat of commands hanging over my head.”

She kissed him again, and this time his hands came to rest on her hips, still gentle, but strong too. She wanted to lose herself in that strength, in his spice-musk scent, in _him._ He was more than happy to comply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have so many emotions about Vector y'all
> 
> someday maybe I'll write the smut implied to follow this but not today


	4. Did You Know?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Eris yells at one of her superiors.
> 
> (Alternate title: Keeps We Really Gotta Talk About The Situations You Put Me In)

“Keeper,” Eris said, hesitant. “May I ask you something?”

Keeper paused, followed the split-second glance toward the door, keyed her computer off without needing to be asked. “Permission to speak freely.”

Eris took a breath to steady herself. _This is foolish._ But she needed to know. “Did you know?” she asked quietly. Keeper's brow furrowed slightly. “Did you know what they did to me?”

The flash of realization in Keeper's dark eyes was gone as soon as it had appeared, but Eris was trained to watch for things like that, and it answered the question well before her superior officer ever opened her mouth. “Not until after my promotion,” she sighed. “By the time I was informed, it had already been done.”

Eris narrowed her eyes, taking her time mulling over the words. Keeper must have read her hesitation as suspicion, which wasn't entirely wrong, because she added, “I'm not trying to shirk blame, Cipher. While I don't agree with the Dark Council's decision, I agree with the Minister of Intelligence that it was necessary to comply.”

Eris hated to admit it, but she was probably right. If the old Keeper had refused, the Sith likely would have killed both him and Eris. It would have accomplished nothing. “I would have appreciated knowing about it _before_ I found out Kothe had my keyword,” she said bluntly. “It compromised my mission.”

“There should have been no way for him to know,” Keeper reminded her. “We weren't planning on you _ever_ finding out, because we didn't think we would need it.” She had the grace to look uncomfortable, at least. “It's... unfortunate, that you found out the way you did. I can't imagine it was pleasant.”

Eris gritted her teeth and braced her hands on the edge of Keeper's desk, breaking her at-ease posture for the first time. “Keeper, between you and me, that's the understatement of the century,” she ground out. “No. Being locked in my own head watching my body obey the commands of an intelligent and dangerous enemy was not _pleasant._”

Keeper sighed. “Cipher.”

Eris removed her hands from Keeper's desk, returning to her former perfect posture as she waited for Keeper to continue. Keeper held her silence for a beat longer before speaking. “I will not apologize for the actions of the Minister. Or for my part in what happened to you. I still stand by the reasons for what we did, even as I recognize that it had the potential to cost us greatly. But I _will_ promise that we will learn from our mistakes.”

“I know that,” Eris admitted. “I want to know what's happening that will affect me and my missions in the future, or worse losses may occur. I can't account for factors I'm not aware of. I'm _relying_ on you and the Watchers to keep me informed.”

Keeper met her gaze squarely, unflinching. “I am aware of that, Cipher. This mistake will not be repeated.” She sighed. “You're dismissed, Cipher. You have other duties to attend to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I genuinely really like Keeper/Watcher Two, please don't get me wrong, and I'll probably write something more with her in the future because I have a LOT of headcanons and emotions about her (especially surrounding the entire "made to be a human computer" thing), but Eris definitely got mad at basically everyone about the whole keyword incident and she actually felt confident enough with Keeper to drop some of her usual professionalism.


	5. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Eris has trauma around doctors she doesn't trust, which proves problematic when she's in so much pain she's not thinking clearly.
> 
> (Alternate title: So How About That Torture Scene?)

She'd looked up at him through eyes fuzzed with pain and drugs as he knelt over her, easing her upright. “You did your duty,” he'd said. “You should be proud.”

His words and his hands were gentle, but she could hear the anger and pain in his voice. Worried for her, always worried for her. She'd have smiled at him if her face hadn't been throbbing with pain.

They had to fight. She'd barely made it to her feet, spent the first few seconds of the fight firing her blaster from one knee with her head spinning and only half her shots connecting, but they had to fight. Somehow they came out on top. Eris suspected later that it had more to do with Vector's electrostaff than with her rifle. But somehow they lived.

They'd staggered back to the ship with Vector half-carrying her, his arm looped around her ribs while she fought not to cry out with the stabbing pain in her chest, not to give away their location to whatever enemies were nearby. The stealth generators helped.

Eris didn't remember the entire walk back to the ship. At some point she fuzzed out again, and when she came back to full consciousness Vector really was carrying her, in his arms like some ridiculous holonovel couple, laying her down ever so gently. He was always so gentle with her, like he was afraid she might break. Ridiculous. She wasn't so fragile. But sweet. He was always sweet.

“Eris,” he was saying, and she almost managed a smile to hear her name on his lips. “Eris, we need you awake. Just stay awake a little longer, you'll be all right.”

She tried to lift a hand to reach for him, found she couldn't, the ache in her shoulder redoubling at the effort. “Stay still,” another voice said, and Eris recoiled instinctively from it before she could even name it. Doctor Lokin appeared beside Vector, hovering over her. “You're badly hurt. I need to treat your wounds.”

“No,” she mumbled, tongue thick in her mouth – _pain, dehydration,_ some part of her brain told her automatically. Lokin ignored her, reached to apply something she vaguely recognized to her arm; she pulled away despite the surge of pain, panic pounding in her chest. _Not again. Not again. Watcher X did something to me, you'll do something to me, not again, can't take another voice in my head, not again, no!_

The last part made it past her lips, and Lokin drew back, hissing in irritation. “You need to be treated,” he insisted, but Eris could only shake her head, cringing away from him, mumbling half-formed protests over and over.

Vector shushed her, touched her uninjured cheek gently, so gently. Safe. Vector was safe. She stopped fighting. “You need treatment,” he repeated, ever gentle, ever worried for her. “Let Doctor Lokin -”

She shook her head, whimpered at the spike of pain that caused. “No. _No._ Hurt. Always – hurt.” _They always hurt me. _The words wouldn't come.

Vector understood. Maybe he could read it in – what did he call it? Her electric aura. Smell it on her, see it in her, see and understand. Always understanding. He glanced back over his shoulder, looked back at Eris, leaned in to kiss her forehead softly, carefully. “He won't hurt you,” he promised, black eyes fixed on hers. “We won't let him. You're safe with us, Erisine.”

Her eyes were drifting shut; she forced them open, struggled to focus through pain and exhaustion and fuzz. She reached for him again with her other hand; this one obeyed, and Vector squeezed her fingers lightly. “Trust,” she rasped, fighting to force the words out as her vision went as fuzzy as her thoughts were, bright and blurred. “Trust... you.”

Then the bright turned to black, and she was gone.

The first sensation she was aware of was the smell of antiseptic and kolto, stinging her nose. A beat later the dull ache came back to her, seeping through her limbs and torso, and she stirred.

A warm grip on her hand tightened, and Vector's voice reached her. Worried. “Erisine?”

“Vec.” She swallowed, tried again. “Vector.”

“Eris,” he repeated, relieved this time, and she opened her eyes to see him looking down at her from her bedside. The medbay aboard the Phantom. Doctor Lokin was nowhere in sight. Part of her was glad. Vector sighed, squeezed her hand again. “We're glad you're awake.”

“How long was I out?” she croaked, then made a face at how awful her voice sounded. “Do you have water?”

“Here,” he said, reaching toward the counter for a bottle and putting the straw to her lips. “You were unconscious for a few hours,” he explained as she drank. “You frightened us a bit. But Doctor Lokin says you'll be fine.” He set the water aside, tapping his fingers on the counter. “He had to examine you, we don't have the skill for that. But we were the one to treat you, mostly, under his instructions.”

_Why?_ It took her a moment to remember, and when she did she looked away, face burning. “You're sweet, Vector, but... you didn't have to,” she told him. “It was – I wasn't thinking clearly. It was irrational.” _Stupid. Vector had to suffer for your problems, again._

“We know,” he said simply. “But we value your trust greatly, Eris. Whether your fear was irrational or not, we are unwilling to betray that trust unless it is absolutely necessary to save your life.” He paused, ran his thumb in gentle circles over the back of her hand. “You don't trust Doctor Lokin.” She shook her head slowly. “But that's not why you were afraid.”

She shook her head again. “I'm not afraid of him,” she whispered. “It's... doctors have a history of doing things to me, Vector. Watcher X and his implant, the scientists at Intelligence – they put things in my body without even telling me, much less getting my permission. He's... very much like most of them.”

Vector nodded. “We understand.” He bent to kiss the back of her knuckles gently. “We're no doctor, but we will never betray you, Erisine. We know we can't protect you from everything.” He glanced at the bandages covering her wounds, and she saw regret and pain flash across his face. “But we love you. And what we can protect you from, we will.”

She stared at him for a moment before closing her eyes, shaking her head. “What did I ever do to deserve you?” she whispered to the ceiling.

He chuckled. “We ask ourselves that sometimes too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Yeah. So how about that torture scene?
> 
> The Agent has such a bad time around doctors Doing Things to them, and that doesn't come without trauma, I imagine. (I also feel like the aftermath of literal *torture* got underplayed a little in terms of everybody just kind of going "yep, back to work," so.)
> 
> I don't know about y'all, but I definitely don't trust Doctor Lokin.


	6. Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath of the attack on Tython. Eris has moral quandaries over the fact that the Temple wasn't just a training ground, it was a home - and over the treatment of its youngest residents. Vector reassures her that she's right to draw lines somewhere.

“Erisine?” Vector asked gently. “You've been upset ever since Tython. What's wrong?”

Eris paused in the middle of undoing her hair, then sighed. “You always know, somehow. I must be losing my touch.”

“Not at all,” he assured her. “But others cannot see your electric aura like we can. We are difficult to deceive that way.”

A half-hearted smile touched her lips. “Useful, living with a former Intelligence agent.”

He shook his head. “More useful when our wife tries to hide how exhausted she is from us. But you're trying to distract us from the original question.”

“Perceptive as ever,” she hummed, reaching for the hairbrush. “I don't know if _upset_ is the word I would use. But the attack on Tython was... troubling. Some of the people in that temple – they weren't warriors, Vector.”

He nodded solemnly. “The Jedi Temple is both a place to train warriors and a place for Jedi of all ages to live. The consequences of that are... unfortunate, to say the least.”

“Especially the end. The padawans.” She shivered at the memory, staring at her own face in the mirror. She'd come to see, to judge for herself, when told they'd captured the group of young Jedi so easily. She hadn't expected to find a group of _children,_ collared and cuffed and under heavy guard. They'd been so young; the oldest couldn't have been more than fifteen, the youngest only six or seven.

Force-sensitive, to a one. Which made them innately dangerous, no matter how young they were.

Some of them had been crying. Others had been silent as the grave. None of them fought back, although several bore bruises and lacerations that said they'd already tried and been beaten into submission.

Vector had been with her; he didn't need to ask. He just nodded again. “One of them looked up at me,” she recalled, still staring at her own reflection. “His eyes...” He'd been one of the older, maybe thirteen – old enough to understand fully what was happening, yet far too young to have it be happening to him. In his face she'd seen the fear of a captive who knew he had no chance of escaping. The fear of a slave awaiting death.

The fear of a Cipher, locked inside her head and betrayed by her own body.

She shuddered again. “I looked into his eyes and he looked like me,” she whispered, dropping her hands to grab the edge of the table for support. “He was so afraid. So hopeless.” She shook her head. “I should have had them executed. They're dangerous, free. But I just... I couldn't.”

Vector's hands touched her shoulders gently, letting her know he was there before his arms encircled her from behind. “We know,” he murmured, holding her close against his chest. “We know. We would have done the same thing. It wouldn't have been right.”

She turned in his arms to hide her face in his chest. “I've done so much for the Empire,” she mumbled. “But I have to draw a line somewhere. I have to. They were just children. I can't massacre _children._”

“We would never ask you to,” he promised, arms tightening around her. “We believe in the Empire as much as you do. But some atrocities are fundamentally wrong. You were right to let them go.”

“I hope you're right,” she whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate title: Dragon's Finally Playing Past The Class Storyline And Has Immediately Started Crying
> 
> I know they all have adult models in-game, but with the dialogue we were given and what we know about the Jedi? Those were kids.
> 
> In-game my/her reaction was basically:  
Sergeant: what should we do with them?  
Eris:  
Eris:  
Eris, grabbing the front of his armor and pulling him close: _they're fucking kids, what is wrong with you_


	7. The Search

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***SPOILERS: For Chapter 1 of KotFE; no spoilers for Vector's actual return because I honestly haven't played that far yet***
> 
> In which Eris, separated from her husband during the attack on Marr's ship and found later by Lana Beniko after having narrowly escaped capture in an escape pod, searches the galaxy rather desperately for him.

Lana racked her brain and found nothing. She'd heard of insectoid races of people, but she didn't recognize these creatures. “What are they? I'm not familiar.”

“Killiks,” Eris breathed, and Lana glanced over to see her face light up with – _hope?_ For _what?_

“I need to talk to them,” Eris told her, and before Lana could remind her how bad an idea that was, she was already standing and moving into the open. The Killiks turned as one and raised their techstaffs, clicking and hissing. _Kriff._ Lana hurried after Eris, hand on her lightsaber.

Eris, however, just held up her hands, palms out toward the Killiks, a fairly universal gesture of _I don't have a weapon out._ “I don't want to fight,” she said. Quieter, to Lana, she added, “Let me handle this.” She knelt, slowly, hands still open. “I don't know your nest, but I need your help.”

The Killiks didn't look away from Eris, but mandibles clicked in some kind of language Lana couldn't begin to sort out. They lowered their weapons slowly, and Eris lowered her hands a little as well, standing again and half-bowing at the waist. “A song of greeting, from us to you,” she said, and one of the Killiks clicked again and bowed back. “I am Erisine Ganne. I'm looking for the Oroboro nest,” Eris continued. “My husband, Vector Hyllus, is their Dawn Herald – a Joiner. We've been separated for...” She grimaced. “A very long time. I can't understand your language, and my translator mod isn't advanced enough to parse it -” _She has a translator mod?_ “- but if a Joiner of your nest is nearby, or if you know Galactic Basic Sign...”

One of the Killiks nodded and slung its techstaff over its back. Uncertainly, it signed with its upper pair of hands, “Know little sign. Difficult. Wait.”

Eris nodded. “We'll wait. Thank you.” She moved back to the rock outcropping they'd been hiding behind a moment ago and sat on one of the rocks, apparently prepared to wait as long as she needed to.

Lana sat next to her after a moment of hesitation. “Are you going to explain what's going on?”

Eris folded her hands in her lap. “Killik nests are hiveminds. They're all connected intimately; a Joiner is probably already on the way to speak with us.”

“And a Joiner is...?”

“Killiks can bring non-Killik individuals into their hivemind through a ritual called the Joining. It permanently alters a being's physiology, making them as much a part of the nest and the hivemind as a born-Killik is.” She opened and closed her interlocked hands, a fidget Lana hadn't seen from her before. “A lot of people find it... uncomfortable. Which is understandable. But the Joining is seen as a gift, and it's not... _usually_ forced on a person.”

“I see.” Lana gave herself a few seconds to sort through that information. “And your husband is one of these Joiners?”

“Yes.” She smiled wistfully. “He's the Dawn Herald of Oroboro. Which I know probably means nothing to you.”

“I gather it's a position of some importance.”

“He's the ambassador for the nest. A protector and an emissary, to confront the unknown, new things the nest might encounter. Not so different from his work in the Imperial diplomatic service, beforehand. He also has a bit more individuality than the average Joiner because of it.”

She looked like she had more to say, but a voice interrupted them. “Erisine Ganne.”

They both stood, and turned to see a Togruta stepping out of the crowd of Killiks. She should have been pretty, lavender skin and pale blue montrals with those striking white markings, but – her _eyes._ Her eyes were solid black, no visible iris or pupil. It gave even Lana a chill.

Eris, however, didn't seem bothered. That must have been one of the physiological alterations she'd mentioned. She half-bowed again. “A song of greeting, from us to you.”

The Togruta Joiner cocked her head, as if slightly confused, but bowed back after a moment. “We sing in return. We are Vey'li of the Akayaka nest. You seek Oroboro?”

Eris nodded. “I do. I'm looking for their Dawn Herald, Vector Hyllus.”

Vey'li _hmm_ed softly. “We know these names. Vector Hyllus of Oroboro. The nest that sought to hatch trade relations between Imperials and Killiks, before the Eternal Empire attacked. The Dawn Herald to All Nests.” Eris nodded, eyes lighting up even as she clearly tried to maintain her composure. Vey'li paused again, as if to think. “We remember. But we have not made contact with Oroboro in several seasons.”

Eris's eyes darkened again, lips tightening. Funny, she didn't usually let even that much emotion show to others. “I see. Do you have any idea where they are?” _Where _he _might be,_ she didn't add.

Vey'li shook her head. “The Dawn Herald of Oroboro was on a ship when we last made contact. He could be anywhere. The rest of Oroboro was not with him.” She paused. “We remember... he was searching for something. Someone.”

Eris kept her composure, but the Force _shivered_ around her, almost making _Lana_ catch her breath. Eris didn't need to say anything; that tremor had all but pushed the thought _He's looking for me, he still loves me_ directly into Lana's brain. Lana doubted it was intentional. She elected to pretend it hadn't happened. Aloud, Eris was saying, “What about – Iesei nest? Vector had contact with them; they might know.”

But Vey'li shook her head again. “We have not made contact with Iesei in just as long. We cannot help.”

Eris closed her eyes for a moment as if to calm herself, forehead creasing slightly. Vey'li paused, tilting her head. “Why do you seek one Joiner out so desperately?”

Eris pursed her lips. “We... Humans don't relate to each other the same way you do,” she said quietly. “He is my husband. My mate. I love him as dearly as you love the nest. To be separated from him for so long...” She shook her head. “I can only imagine it would be similar to you being isolated from Akayaka for seasons on seasons.”

Vey'li shivered visibly, as did several of the other Killiks. “To even think of such pain and loneliness haunts us,” she murmured. “It is no wonder you seek him out.” A few other Killiks clicked and gurgled among themselves, and Vey'li added, “We do not know where Oroboro or Iesei are. But whenever we meet other nests, we will mingle, and ask. If we find them, we will send word to you.”

Eris nodded. “Thank you. If you do find him, Oroboro – tell him I'm looking for him?”

“We will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <s>First things first: PLEASE DO NOT SPOIL VECTOR'S RETURN SCENE FOR ME. PLEASE JUST DON'T TELL ME ANYTHING ABOUT IT. I haven't played that far, I don't know how it happens, I just know that it happens at some point. I don't _want_ to know how it happens until I play that far. This one-shot may end up conflicting with and being decanonized by the information we get about him and what he's been doing at that point; I'm okay with that.</s> **UPDATE: I have now played past Vector's return; feel free to scream about it in the comments now.** Also, conveniently, this is still canon-compliant.  
This is literally just me shaking Bioware by the shoulders and yelling "WHERE IS MY BUG HUSBAND" and venting that energy through writing.
> 
> (Spoilers for KotFE Chapter 2 from hereonout, lest anyone care.)
> 
> Second thing: Lest anyone wonder what Eris is doing wandering around with Lana during the time frame of Chapter 2 of KotFE, it's a product of me trying to reconcile four separate characters of mine being major players in KotFE onward (my Imperial Agent Erisine Ganne, my Jedi Knight Garen'ishta, my Jedi Consular Zashiil, and my Sith Inquisitor Duserra) when it's very much designed to only have one canon Outlander. My solution to this has thus far been Complicated(TM), and I haven't actually played all of KotFE much less KotET and Onslaught so I don't have everything figured out, but part of it was that Garen, Zashiil, and Duserra were the three that ended up being captured along with Marr and subsequently frozen in carbonite. Eris made a narrow escape in one of the escape pods, probably crash-landed somewhere, and by the time she had access to the technology to try and get hold of her crew, they were long gone. Lana was the one who found her and picked her up, and over the next five years Eris helped her in trying to find and free the Outlanders.
> 
> Anyway this came from a post somewhere on Tumblr that was more or less, "Lana, you haven't talked to a _single_ Killik in the last five years? Really? Vector shouldn't have been that hard to find" and the only answer I could come up with was "They did find a few Killiks, but the nests had been scattered again in the process of hiding from Arcann's forces and even Killiks have a limited range on their communication."
> 
> Also, I have Thoughts on the Killiks and I wish we knew more about their physiology, psychology, and customs. Eris doesn't _really_ fully understand them, but she learned a lot from her Joiner husband and damn if she isn't gonna use it to the best of her ability.


	8. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***SPOILERS: Light spoilers for KotFE (allusions are made to plot but no real discussion of details); heavy spoilers for Vector's reunion scene***
> 
> In which two long-lost loves finally reunite.
> 
> Edited and expanded Vector reunion scene (and immediate aftermath).

Eris paused in the hallway to take a few deep breaths, trying to steady her nerves. One would _think_ that after a lifetime of training she would be able to keep her hands from shaking, and normally she could, but... well, here she was, trembling visibly no matter how long she spent trying to bring herself back under control.

_It's likely not even him. Surely if he'd made it back to Alderaan, he would have been able to contact you before now. Most likely it's the Dawn Herald of another nest, representing the Killiks._ She swallowed. _Even if it is... it's been six years. You've changed. He'll have changed. It... it may not be the same._

Damn if she could stop the impossible hope from rising, no matter what she told herself. She'd had so many disappointments in the last six years.

Better to just get it over with. She took one last deep breath and rounded the corner, stepping into the room where she was to meet the Killik emissary.

She was still scanning the room, an old habit that had never really faded, when a voice stopped her heart in her chest. “After so many years, we didn't know if your aura would remain the same.”

Eris's lungs failed her. _Please._ The armchair with its back to her shifted as the person in it stood up, turning to face her with solid black eyes glittering in the light. “But... it still feels like home.”

There he was. Older, a little, with more lines creasing his forehead and the corners of his eyes; in cool blue robes instead of the warm earth tones she was used to seeing him in – but the same solid black eyes, the same tentative smile, the same voice.

The air still left in her chest left her all in a rush. “_Vector._”

She wanted to run to him, couldn't move; he closed the distance between them, offering her his hands. “It is good to hear your song again, Eris.”

Eris took his hands in hers, squeezing them tight to reassure herself he was real. _After all this time..._ “I didn't know if you'd ever find your way back to me,” she managed, hearing her voice strain with emotion. “If you were even _alive._”

“We are here now,” he reassured her, squeezing her fingers back. “We are sorry it took so long. We searched for you endlessly, through the eyes of the entire nest.” He grimaced. “Then the Eternal Fleet attacked, and the Sith Empire conscripted the Killiks to join the fight.”

Eris's eyes widened. That couldn't have been good. A nonhuman race, one even more loathed than most...

Vector's inability to meet her eyes confirmed her fears. “They sent us to the worst battles; sacrificed us as cannon fodder,” he murmured, pain in his voice too now. “So many of us were slaughtered. We felt every light blink out.”

The pain in Eris's chest redoubled at even trying to imagine what that must have been like. To be so intimately connected to a host of others, and to feel hundreds, probably thousands, die? She couldn't fathom it. She squeezed his hands tighter between hers. “I can't imagine how hard that must have been for you.”

Vector's lips tightened. “We still feel their absence,” he murmured. “We must protect what is left.” When he met her eyes again, the mourning had been replaced by determination. “We're ending our agreement with the Empire to pledge our loyalty to you. From now on, the Killiks will fight for the Alliance – for you.” He hesitated. “And... we want to return to your side, Eris. Without you, we are... empty.”

Eris's heart fluttered in her chest, even as Vector let her go and turned away to pace partway across the room, as if too restless to stand still. “When you disappeared, the nest limited our connection to them,” he said quietly, looking down. “They... couldn't bear to experience losing you.”

Eris felt her chest crush at the thought. The _isolation,_ after being connected to thousands of other minds for years on end – all she could manage was a weak, half-whispered, “Vector...”

He turned and walked back to her again. “Hearing your song again – it's as though we've woken from a nightmare. We want to come home again, Eris. We... _I..._ love you.”

Eris's eyes stung. She could have sprouted wings and flown, if Vector had asked her to at that moment. “Your home is always with me, Vector,” she promised, letting the raw pain of separation and hope for reunion show in full for the first time in a very long time. Part of her wondered what colors it must paint her aura, in his eyes. She reached into her shirt and fished out the necklace she'd had made of his ulikuo gemstone, the gift he'd given to her when he proposed. His eyes widened when he saw it, surprise and hope. She smiled, through the tears she could feel forming. “I never stopped loving you.”

Vector laughed a little, the sort of nervous laugh people give when they're not sure how else to respond to a situation. “It is – difficult to describe how this makes us feel,” he admitted.

She hummed, leaning in closer and dropping the necklace against her chest again. “Then maybe you should show me.”

He smiled, brushing one gloved hand against her cheek. She leaned into the touch, skin buzzing at the contact. “As you wish.”

She stretched up to wrap her arms around his neck as he bent to kiss her, throwing her body weight a little carelessly into him and making him take half a step back to rebalance. She couldn't bring herself to care. He was everything she remembered, the same warm spice-musk smell and the same soft lips moving against hers and the same steady, stable, deceptive strength promising _this time, this time we're not going anywhere._

At last Vector broke the kiss to let them both come up for air, nosing against her neck and hair instead and breathing in her scent. Eris let him, too busy keeping his body pressed close to hers with her arms wrapped around him. “Your scent has changed,” he murmured against her skin. “Subtly, but still.”

“It's been six years,” she chuckled, nuzzling against him in return. “We've both changed.”

He hummed his agreement. “Indeed. You smell of far-away worlds, a new home, people we do not know.” He drew back far enough for her to see his smile. “But the scent is still yours. We could never forget.”  
“I wouldn't want you to.” She stood on tip-toes to press her forehead against his.

She didn't need the Force or Killik senses to feel the joy and love radiating from him as he spoke. “Now our future can finally be written. A new song begins. We look forward to hearing its opening verse.”

Eris hummed an agreement. “As long as this verse is a duet, instead of two solos.”

“Forever more.”

* * *

Later, in hyperspace, they lay together in the dark, the Phantom's engines humming around them, just quietly breathing each other in. Eris had thrown an arm and a leg over Vector possessively as soon as he'd laid down next to her; he didn't complain, and somehow she ended up mostly on top of him from there. Her weight must not have bothered him, or else the trade-off for as much physical contact as possible was worth making it a little harder to breathe, because he just wrapped his arms around her to keep her there and tangled their legs together under the blankets.

At last, Eris whispered, “I thought I'd lost you. I thought you might be dead.”

Vector's lips pressed against her temple. “We feared the same. The thought was... too much to bear, sometimes.”

He must have felt her tense up, or else seen or scented the anger that surged in her gut at that. “Eris?” he asked quietly, uncertainly. “What's wrong?”

“They left you,” she muttered. “You _needed_ them, the nest, and they left you.”

Vector shifted under her, reaching up to stroke a hand through her hair. “It was too much for them,” he murmured. “Human emotions are... strange, to Killiks. Overwhelming, sometimes.”

She half sat up to look him in the face, bracing her elbows on either side of his head to prop herself up. “The nest is supposed to support you,” she hissed. “They isolated you when you needed them _most._ Don't tell me it didn't hurt you, Vector. I know how much the nest means to you. How hard it was for you to even leave Alderaan in the first place.”

“It did,” he agreed, looking up at her. “It hurt us very much. We don't deny that. But it was necessary for the good of the nest. Eris,” he interrupted, when she tried to speak. “We knew it was a possibility from the moment we first realized we were falling in love with you. We accepted that.”

She hesitated. “All the way back then?”

“Yes. Human emotions are difficult for Killiks. Love, as well as loss. We have told you about the nest's questions about our – my feelings for you, our relationship.” She nodded. “They're not capable of fully understanding, just as you are not capable of fully understanding what it is to be Joined. But our love for you – it is something the nest is curious about, but which can ultimately be overwhelming.” His voice shook as he traced her cheekbone with a thumb. “Losing you was far worse. We could barely handle it ourselves.”

Eris sighed and pressed her forehead to his. “They should have been there for you. It might have been easier to bear. I don't know _what_ I would have done, if I had had to bear losing you completely alone.” _Finally broken, probably._

“We had the crew, at least in the beginning,” Vector corrected. “But... yes, it was... difficult.” He wrapped his arms tight around her again as she settled back onto his chest. “Don't blame the Killiks, beloved. And it does not matter now. We are together again.”

_Beloved._ She might have argued further, if the name hadn't made fresh tears spring to her eyes. How many times had she dreamed of him calling her that again? “All right,” she managed, choking back the tears. “I trust your judgement. Especially when it comes to the nest.” She kissed his cheek. “All the same, I wish you hadn't had to suffer alone.”

“What's done is done.” He stretched up to kiss the tears off her cheeks. “We're only sorry it lasted so long.”

“I tried to find you,” she promised in a hoarse whisper, scooting down far enough to rest her head on his chest in a more comfortable way. “The Killiks were hard to find – I guess if they were conscripted during the war, that would explain it. Those few I did find hadn't communed with Oroboro, or Iesei, or anyone in a long time. It was like you just... disappeared.”

He combed gentle fingers through her hair, soothing and comforting. “We searched for you too. The entire nest searched. They did not abandon us completely, Eris. But no one could find you.” He chuckled. “You're a little _too_ good at covering your tracks.”

She smiled despite herself. “Well, you know. Old habits. I _was_ a wanted fugitive.”

“Yes. And then...” The rhythm of his hand in her hair faltered.

She filled in the gap. “The war.”

“Yes.” His voice choked a little. “So many lost.”

It was her turn to crane her neck to look up at his face and reach up to stroke his cheek gently. “I'm so sorry, Vector,” she murmured.

He leaned into the touch slightly, closing his eyes. “Afterward – there was never time. We were so busy trying to keep the Kind alive and safe. So much happening, all at once – the Song of the Universe a constant cacophony.”

“I know the feeling,” Eris agreed. “It was much the same on my end.”

“Worse, we imagine, since you were in the middle of it.”

The memory of yellow eyes and burning Force power flashed through her and left old wounds aching. “Bad enough to keep me occupied, for certain. Being the Alliance Commander is a demanding job.” A thought occurred to her, and she snorted. “You know, everyone's going to want to know who you are – the Commander's husband. You're going to be a celebrity.”

“Oh?” She didn't need to look at his face to hear his smile. “Do they even know you're married?”

“The public figured that out a while ago. Enough people caught me fidgeting with the ulikuo necklace that someone heard about it who knew what it meant, I supposed. As far as I know, public knowledge is that the Commander has a spouse, that she lost them somehow, and that she's spent every spare minute of her personal time searching for them. Beyond that, most of the Alliance people don't know much. Besides Kaliyo, Lana's... really the only one I've talked to about you.”

“Lana Beniko? The Sith who assisted us on Rishi and Yavin Four?”

“That's the one. She's the one who found me after my escape pod malfunctioned and crashed on some unnamed, uninhabited planet. She said the Force guided her to me.” Eris shrugged. “Suppose I have no choice but to believe that, considering I don't know how else she could have found me. We've been working together ever since.”

Vector made a small noise of surprise. “You trust her.”

It wasn't a question, but Eris answered it anyway. “Yes. Surprisingly.” She sighed, shifting her weight. “She's the only Sith I've ever met that I trust. She's ruthlessly pragmatic, it's true, but... she's also proven over and over again that she's loyal to me. Ruthless pragmatism is something I can understand. She's different from most Sith. She doesn't lash out every time she doesn't get her way.” Eris hesitated before adding, “She... actually respects my boundaries. She's never used the Force on me unless it was life-or-death, and even then she warns me first if at all possible.” She shook her head. “Or maybe it's just how long we've spent together that finally forced me to trust her.”

He hummed in understanding. He was perhaps the only one she'd talked to about her fear of Sith – of the Force, really – in as many words, although likely Lana had figured her out long ago and was just being polite by not asking about it directly. “We are glad,” he said at last. “That you didn't have to be alone, all this time. That even a Sith can prove trustworthy.”

He was silent for a time, then asked, “Two days to Odessen?”

“Two days.” She looked up at him to smile blissfully. “Two days alone, together again, before we have to face the world.”

He smiled back. “We suppose we will have to make the most of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all knew it was coming. (This is hot off the press; to be honest, I haven't even edited it beyond a brief scan for proofreading, so if there's a typo in there somewhere, do forgive me.)
> 
> Okay so as of posting this, I'm just barely starting Onslaught for the first time. KotFE and KotET were a _ride,_ y'all.
> 
> So anyway, I'm crying in the club over having compared losing Vector to a Joiner being isolated from the nest last chapter, and then playing Vector's reunion in-game and he says "When you disappeared, the nest limited our connection to them. They... couldn't bear to experience losing you." FUNNY YOU SHOULD MAKE THAT COMPARISON, PAST-DRAGON. HHHHH.
> 
> I have too many feelings about these two. Have a nice day


	9. The Need to Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Eris wakes up from a nightmare desperately needing to be sure of something she can only trust her husband to confirm.

Eris was suffocating.

She was in a dim-lit room, somewhere that could have been anywhere in the galaxy, and she was face to face with Ardun Kothe and she was suffocating.

There was no sympathy on his face, no hint of regret or guilt or anything but cold calculation. Something weighed on her neck, tight around her throat and growing ever tighter, but when she clutched at it instinctively there was nothing there to grasp. She gasped for air, grabbed for her vibroknife because _this is his doing, if I kill him_ -

She drew back to stab him in the chest, between the ribs to end it fast – her hand froze, unable to make the blow. Her muscles rebelled, control of her own body slipping away from her like water through her fingers. She tried to scream, out of rage or panic she didn't know.

She still couldn't breathe.

Kothe was gone, vanished, but her instincts warned her something worse was coming half a second before she heard _his_ voice.

“Now, now, Legate. Don't be rude.”

Ironically, it was only then that she found it in her to turn, to raise her knife before her and -

And Hunter was far too close, and she couldn't focus on anything but his _face,_ filling her entire field of vision as he leered into her face and that _hated_ word fell from his lips -

“_Keyword: onomatophobia._”

She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't _think._

_“Eris?”_

She snapped awake, frozen, unable to move _oh gods she couldn't move_ -

It took her a few seconds to realize the reason wasn't because she'd lost control again, it was because her muscles were so tense she was locked in place. She gulped in air, fighting to rein herself in, force herself to breathe and relax.

“Eris,” the voice repeated, and she sobbed with relief at the sound. Not Hunter. _Vector._

The noise must have frightened him more than anything else to this point, because she saw him move then, start to reach for her before stopping himself. “May we touch you?” he asked gently.

Her muscles were starting to relax again. She forced herself to nod, and Vector's hand fell on her shoulder, providing steady, grounding pressure.

Eris sat up in bed, and Vector sat up with her, turned to face her. She couldn't look into his face, just stared at her own trembling hands and tried to regulate her own breathing. He rubbed her shoulders, murmuring, “It's all right. It was a nightmare. You're safe with us. You're in our room on the Phantom and you're safe.”

_Safe._ Yes. Vector was safe. He would never hurt her, not even in her worst nightmares. Vector would never hurt her.

His hand moved toward her face, slow and careful; when she didn't flinch away, he brushed his thumb across her cheek, swiping away tears. She'd been crying, maybe before she even woke up. She hadn't realized. “Is there anything we can do?” he asked softly.

Eris looked up at him then, suddenly desperate and fierce and filled with dread and fire. He held her gaze, worry plain to see on his face, as she searched his expression, his bottomless black eyes, looking for – something. She wasn't sure what. She found only Vector, only the Dawn Herald of Oroboro, only her husband.

Oroboro. “Swear to me the nest can keep a secret,” she whispered.

She'd asked him about it before, long ago; he'd promised then that no member of Oroboro would betray her, any more than he himself would. For whatever reason, he didn't question her asking again now. “We can and we will,” he promised.

Her tongue was lead, heavy and poisonous; she had to spit it out before she could talk herself out of it. She had to know. “Keyword: onomatophobia. Say it. Give me a command. Anything.”

He recoiled, face contorting in shock and confusion. “We – don't understand -”

“_Say it,_” she insisted, clutching at his hands. “Keyword: onomatophobia. And a command, any command. Please. I need – I need to know.”

He gripped her hands tight, taking his turn to search_ her_ face this time, and apparently whatever he saw there – she was in no state to hide her terror and desperation – convinced him. He licked his lips, uncertain. “Keyword: onomatophobia,” he repeated slowly, and Eris had to swallow a sudden rise of terror in her throat. His eyes darted away from her – a motion probably anyone else would have missed – as if searching for something to prompt him. “...Get out of bed.”

Eris's breath caught in her throat. The words hung in the air, a simple order but a clear one, and she waited – waited for the inevitable dissociation, for her facial expression to lose any connection to her actual emotions, for her body to move without her consent.

It didn't come. She sat, holding her breath, staring desperately into Vector's face as he stared back into hers, as the seconds ticked by.

It must have been half a minute at least before she finally believed it. Just like that, she sagged like a marionette with its strings cut – a horrible metaphor, considering the context, but an accurate one, she supposed – and buried her face in the crook of Vector's neck. He wrapped his arms around her to support her as she let out a long, shaky breath. “Thank you,” she mumbled against his skin, trying and failing to stop shaking. “Thank you. Thank you.”

He shushed her gently, stroking her hair. When she'd settled a bit, he asked quietly, “That was... your keyword, wasn't it? From before.”

She nodded, not lifting her head from his chest. “I had to be sure,” she whispered. “I had to know for sure and if – if I was wrong, if I was still – you're the only one I can trust with it. You're the only one I can trust.”

He didn't protest that, just hugged her tighter to him as he tugged them both gently back down to lie down under the covers again. And they lay alone in the dark together until she finally stopped shaking, as Vector hummed Killik songs to her until consciousness faded and the world went dark again.

This time, she didn't dream, just woke up again in Vector's arms surrounded by his love and his scent and the final, absolutely certain knowledge that she was safe in her own body, that she would never have her will stolen from her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This all came from a fairly simple thought - Eris knows, consciously, that her programming should be gone, but... how can she really be sure? Probably in any other context outside the terror of waking up from a nightmare about it, she would have stopped herself from sharing it with even Vector, but. Here we are. At least now she knows.
> 
> (Something similar will never happen with "iconoclasm" to confirm the command interface really is closed, by the way. That keyword has never yet been spoken aloud, and Eris secretly hopes she can forget it eventually, because if even she forgets it, it'll truly be safe forever. I did consider it, though.)
> 
> ...I swear Eris and Vector do get a happy ending eventually, I promise


	10. Welcome Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***SPOILERS: Technically takes place during KOTET, but no real discussion of plot happens.***
> 
> In which Eris and Vector come home, and Jedi Knight Garen'ishta gets to see a new side of the Alliance Commander - if only for a moment.

Eris glanced over at Vector as the Phantom came down through Odessen's atmosphere. He was sitting forward in his seat, black eyes wide as he scanned the landscape below. When he caught her watching, he broke out in a smile. “We knew it would be green, we smelled the trees on you, but... it looks almost like the lower reaches of Alderaan.” He pressed a hand to the glass of the window. “It looks like home.”

“It's not the nest,” she replied softly, “but I hoped you'd like it.”

Vector chuckled. “Anywhere is a good place to be, as long as we're beside you,” he promised, taking her hand for a moment to press a kiss to her knuckles. “And this is a good place to make a home.”

“It is,” she agreed, smiling back at him. She raised her hand to point. “Look – there's the base. It's not very visible until you're close; we designed it that way on purpose. We built it from the bedrock up.”

She took the Phantom in a wide circle around the base, letting Vector get a good look while she messaged ground control. The benefits of taking her own ship – her personal bay was always open.

“I'll show you everything,” she promised as she locked the landing gear and stood, taking his hand and squeezing it tight. “I think you'll like it. We designed it so people from both sides would be forced to intermingle while still having enough spaces they could get away on their own, to help encourage bonding and minimize hostilities between ex-Pubs and ex-Imps. Our quarters are placed so it's more or less equally easy to get to all the major facilities in the base. The cantina is -” He'd broken out into a grin at some point as they walked down the ramp to the dock. “What?”

“Our quarters,” he said, still grinning. “You said _our_ quarters.”

Eris scoffed a laugh, shoving his shoulder lightly. “Of _course_ 'our' quarters. You're my husband. I'm not going to make you sleep on the couch, metaphorically or literally.”

“We know. We've missed you, that's all.” His eyes sparkled with laughter and love as he squeezed her hand back. “You were talking about the base design.”

* * *

Garen spotted them walking up from the Commander's personal ship – the Commander and a man Garen could only assume was her husband, from the way Erisine was smiling at him.

And what a look it was. It stopped Garen in her tracks; Lana paused as well to just watch them for a moment. Garen had never seen Erisine like this. Her fingers were interlaced with those of the man beside her, free hand gesturing in the air as she talked. Her smile lit up her entire face and demeanor, like someone who had found a joy long forgotten in the world. There was no reserve there, no hidden layers of subtlety like usual, no calculations of every degree of smile or frown and how it would be seen by others – just a simple woman with a decade's worth of tired years washed off her face, grinning unashamedly at the man she so very clearly loved with all her heart. And he looked back at her the same way, listening to her talk with clearly rapt attention, eyes fixed solely on _her_ even though many would have been caught up in seeing the wild beauty of Odessen for the first time.

All Garen could come up with was a quiet, “Wow. I – I don't think I've ever seen the Commander smile like that.”

Lana made a soft noise of agreement next to her, though she sounded less surprised. When Garen glanced over, the Sith was smiling too, as if relieved to see the Commander so happy. “It's been a long time.”

Erisine made it another few steps before she caught sight of them standing at the top of the path. She broke off mid-sentence to recompose herself – funny, Garen had never gotten to actually watch the emotional mask go on, and now it was the Alliance Commander approaching them rather than Erisine Ganne. Still smiling, but quieter, more controlled. “Garen'ishta, Lana,” she greeted them. “Is everything all right?”

“Everything's fine,” Lana assured her, raising a hand to stall the worry. “We just wanted to meet you and make sure everything went all right on your end.” She nodded to the man standing next to the Commander. “Hello, Vector. It's good to see you again.”

“Likewise,” he replied. “We hear you've been a great help to Eris over the past few years. Thank you for that.”

“And this is Jedi Master Garen'ishta, the Hero of Tython,” the Commander said, redirecting Vector's attention. “Garen, Vector Hyllus. My husband.”

For all her skill at masking, she couldn't help but smile a little brighter again as she said the word _husband_ and looked up at him. Garen nodded to him as well – Human, or at least mostly, aside from solid black eyes Garen couldn't deny were a little unnerving. Vector nodded back to her, and his smile softened his eyes a little. “It's nice to meet you,” she said brightly, offering a hand to shake and then thinking better of it and offering the other so he wouldn't have to let go of the Commander's hand to take hers.

He noticed, if the twitch of laughter at the corner of his lips was anything to go by, but didn't comment as he shook her hand. “And you as well, Master Jedi.”

She made a tired noise in the back of her throat. “Oh – please, Garen. I get enough of the 'Master Jedi' stuff from everyone else. I think you qualify as part of the inner circle by association.” She grinned at the Commander.

“Very well. Garen, then.”

Erisine squeezed Vector's hand. “I was going to show Vector the base. Unless you've scheduled some council meeting directly on top of my plans, Lana?” She arched an eyebrow, smile quirking to one side.

Lana chuckled. “I thought you might want a few hours to yourselves. I have reports for you, of course, but nothing urgent. I'll send them to your quarters for you to review at your leisure. And _I_ have a meeting of my own to get to, if you'll excuse me.”

Garen watched her go, then realized abruptly she should probably make her own excuse to leave them alone. “Oh. Yes. I'll – be in the Force enclave, if you need me?” she tried.

Erisine nodded. “Of course. Are your lessons with Darth Nox going all right?” Garen hesitated, glancing at Vector, and Erisine added, “Vector knows the basics. Whatever I'm allowed to know, assume he is as well unless told otherwise.”

Garen flicked a lek at that, but decided it probably wasn't her place to question it. “Okay. Yeah, it's – it's going. There's a lot Nox is still learning too, and it's not like _he's_ especially cooperative, but we're figuring it out. It's easier for me to block him out now when I want to, even if I can't hold it very long.”

“That's good. I'm glad.” Erisine raised a hand. “I shouldn't keep you. Thank you for coming to meet us.”

“I'll see you around,” Garen promised, then couldn't help but add a cheeky grin and a “Have a nice night, you two!” before turning and jogging back toward the main building.

If Eris reacted, Garen didn't see or feel it, but she heard Vector laugh as she made her escape, which was good enough for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been toying with this scene in my head for a while and finally put it on paper. I really love writing people in love, if you couldn't tell. I have a lot of emotions and I just kind of.. pour them out onto the keyboard and see what happens.
> 
> Introducing a new character to this collection, Garen'ishta, my Twi'lek Jedi Knight and the one who got stuck with Valkorion in her head. Garen's a cinnamon roll and for the purposes of this one-shot that's really all you need to know about her. (I've talked about her more on my Tumblr @dragonheart-swtor.)


	11. Old Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***SPOILERS: Takes place during KOTET, actual plot spoilers this time for up to Chapter 3 (technically this takes place somewhere after Chapter 5, but there's no mention of Chapters 4-5 plot)***
> 
> In which Erisine reacts understandably poorly to learning Vaylin is under a kind of mind control very similar to what she was once subjected to and forbids Garen from using it, and a disapproving Valkorion has no meaningful sense of boundaries and no qualms about outing Eris’s trauma to Garen without her consent to try and convince Garen she’s being irrational and making a mistake.

Reactions to Garen describing the events aboard the Gravestone and the news about Vaylin's keyword varied.

Nox recoiled, eyes wide and brow furrowed as if she wasn't sure how she felt about this revelation, only that it wasn't a good feeling. Zashiil startled almost as much, glancing across at the rest of the council like she was looking for reactions too. Theron swore under his breath and pushed himself away from the table to pace across the back wall, shaking his head. Lana rubbed a hand over her face, thoughts flickering behind her eyes too fast to read.

The Commander, whose opinion on this development mattered most of all, did not startle, or pace. A split second of shock flickered across her face, and she went very, very still, lowering her gaze to stare at the holotable. Her fingers might have been a fraction tighter on its edge than they had been a moment ago, but Garen had been watching her face, not her hands, so she couldn't be sure.

Lana was the first to speak. “We could use that to stop Vaylin. If we can just get close to her – we can stop her.”

“I don't like it,” Zashiil muttered. “Taking someone's free will from them. Separating them from the Force. It's wrong.”

“So is massacring a hundred thousand people to catch three fugitives, but Vaylin hasn't had any problems doing that,” Lana countered.

“Zashiil's right,” Theron said, turning back to the table and running a hand through his hair. “We can't justify _everything_ with what our enemies are willing to do, or we're no better than them.”

“Lana might be right about this one,” Koth added, though he didn't sound certain. “Vaylin has to be stopped somehow. She's a monster.”

Zashiil glanced at Nox, as if expecting support, but Nox was staring at the table, fingers clenched around her own biceps as she crossed her arms, silent. The Barsen'thor hissed between her teeth. “I hate Vaylin as much as anyone, but it's not right. You know that.”

“Enough,” said the Commander. The word wasn't loud, but it drew the whole room's attention back to her somehow. She was still staring at the holotable, face carefully neutral, but her voice was sure when she spoke. “This isn't an argument worth having. It's not an option.”

The collective shock at the decisiveness of that rippled through the Force. Lana blinked, clearly taken aback. “Commander?”

She looked up now, green eyes hard as chips of jade. “I'm not arguing about this, Lana. I'm taking it off the table. Zashiil and Theron are right.”

Koth made a shocked noise in the back of his throat. “Commander, you can't just – this is _Vaylin_ we're talking about. I don't like it either, but we need every edge we can get.”

“You will _not_ use Vaylin's programming against her,” the Commander said, turning to look Garen square in the face. It was so small Garen could have imagined it, but she thought she heard a tremor in the Commander's voice. “That's an order, Master Garen'ishta.”

Garen recoiled a little despite herself, startled. An _order_ – the Commander so rarely gave those, or at least rarely said it so bluntly, to her councilors. Lana leaned forward. “Commander, I understand your hesitation, but -”

“But nothing,” the Commander snapped, then paused to take a breath. When she went on, she sounded calm again. “I understand the risks and prices. But I won't allow it. There are depths even I won't stoop to. Let whatever price we may pay be on my head.”

Lana didn't get a chance to respond to that before the scene froze, colors fading.

Valkorion's voice interrupted. _“Commander Ganne. Such a brilliant woman. And yet so foolish sometimes.” _He circled around behind the Commander, shaking his head. _“Such an obvious mistake, and she's walking right into it.”_

_“She's right,”_ Garen retorted. _“It's wrong to – to manipulate Vaylin like that. _Even _Vaylin.”_

_ “Vaylin is a danger to herself and everyone else,”_ Valkorion said, eyes narrow. _“Your Commander would agree, were it not for her past. She allows her fear to get the better of her.”_

Garen hesitated. _“Her – her past? What are you talking about?”_

Valkorion smiled grimly. _“Vaylin is far from her first experience with such programming. She served my Sith Empire. She knows what it's like to have a leash.”_ He tilted his head, examining Erisine's frozen face. _“She was dangerous, too. In a different way. She killed a Dark Councilor; she could have killed more, perhaps. So she was brought under control.”_

Garen's brow furrowed as she turned that over in her mind. She hadn't known this; the Commander had never spoken of it. Which no doubt meant she wasn't _supposed_ to know. _“None of this matters.”_

_ “Oh, but it does,”_ Valkorion disagreed. _“She's making a critical mistake, one that might cost thousands of lives, all because she's letting her emotions override the logic that tells her she should know better. She sympathizes with Vaylin because she's _been _Vaylin. That doesn't mean my reasons for controlling my daughter weren't sound.”_

Garen gritted her teeth. _“Why are you telling me this? You can't expect it to change my mind.”_

_“Perhaps not. But I hope it will, and that you won't let the Commander's irrational emotions dictate your actions.”_

_ “You're wrong,”_ she insisted.

_“So be it, then.”_

The world came back into focus as Valkorion's presence receded. Garen spoke, aloud this time. “I'm not planning to use Vaylin's keyword, Commander. You have my word.”

The Commander's shoulders relaxed slightly, a little of the tension going out of her, as if she'd been braced for Garen to fight her on this. “Good. Now that that's settled, we should talk about Arcann and how to handle him.”

For a moment, Lana looked like she might still protest, but the tone the Commander spoke in brooked no argument, and after a beat of hesitation Lana sighed. “Very well. If you're sure about this.”

* * *

Garen found the Commander standing on the edge of the balcony, leaning against the railing with one foot propped behind the other, staring out over the forests of Odessen. She hesitated a few meters away, not wanting to interrupt the Commander's thoughts.

The Commander nodded slightly without turning around. “Garen.”

Garen blinked, then moved up to the railing next to her. “How did you know it was me?”

Erisine smiled dryly, still looking out toward the horizon. “Footsteps. Yours are the lightest out of anyone on the council. And no one outside the inner circle ever comes to find me out here.” She snorted. “Well. No one who isn't Kaliyo, anyway. But she wouldn't have hesitated to bother me.”

Garen shook her head. “You never cease to amaze me.”

“I have to keep _some_ tricks up my sleeves.”

They stood quietly for a moment, while Garen tried to formulate a way to broach the subject she wanted to gracefully. “So, uh,” she started, hesitantly, ignoring Valkorion's disapproval seeping through the back of her mind. “You seemed... pretty upset about Vaylin.”

Erisine turned to look at her, long enough for Garen to start getting uncomfortable before she spoke. “He's told you something you're not supposed to know about me, hasn't he?”

Garen winced. “I'm sorry. I didn't... I can't always shut him out.”

“Don't apologize. It's not your fault.” Her fingers tightened on the railing. “What did he tell you?”

She could feel him projecting himself standing behind her; she ignored him as best she could. “He said you know what it's like to have a leash. You sympathize with Vaylin because you've _been_ Vaylin. That...” She pulled one lek over her shoulder to fidget with it uncomfortably. “That you're letting your emotions override logic, even though you know we should use Vaylin's programming against her. You – you get the idea.”

The Commander's lips tightened a fraction. “I see.” She looked back out toward the horizon again. “I have to ask you to keep this to yourself, Garen. It's true I know Vaylin's... _situation_ better than almost anyone. But I assure you, it's no longer relevant.” She took a beat to swallow, and Garen tried to pretend she hadn't felt the echoes of old hurt in the Force, too strong to block out completely. “I undid my programming a long time ago. It's not a security threat.”

“I know,” Garen said softly. “You wouldn't let something like that compromise the Alliance.”

Before she could say more, she felt Valkorion step further into the front of her mind. _“She's wrong,”_ he said, circling around into view behind Erisine. _“She may no longer be under control of a keyword, but her past is a threat to you. She sympathizes with Vaylin.”_

Garen frowned. _“I wouldn't use Vaylin's programming against her even if the Commander hadn't ordered me not to,”_ she replied silently. _“It's wrong. No matter how much of a threat Vaylin is.”_

_ “And when innocents die preventable deaths because you wouldn't do what was necessary to stop her?”_ he challenged, arching one eyebrow. _“What will you say then?”_

That made her falter. What would she? What could she possibly say?

_No. Don't let him break you._ He was just looking for weaknesses – things he could exploit to manipulate her. She'd come this far and done this much good without needing to justify horrors; she couldn't start now.

He'd felt the hesitation, though, and Garen felt his satisfaction seep into her mind. She focused for a moment, pushing him back into the background again. Time caught up with her – she hadn't even realized it had stopped this time – and the Commander was looking at her, half a question in her eyes. Before Garen could say anything, Erisine said, “He was talking to you.” Garen nodded. “You get this – look on your face. Like you stop registering everything else for just a second.”

Garen sighed. “Valkorion has this trick he likes to do sometimes where he slows down my perception of time so he can talk without being interrupted. That's probably the look.”

Erisine shook her head. “I'll never understand the Force.” She smiled dryly. “He say anything I should know about?”

Garen flicked a lek dismissively, though even that was half-hearted. “Badgering me about agreeing with you. About Vaylin, I mean. Nothing important.”

Erisine _mm_ed understanding. After a beat of silence, she asked, sounding hesitant, “Does he do that often?”

“Badger me?” Garen shrugged wearily. “Not usually like this. He's always listening, and he likes to give annoying commentary. We disagree on a lot of stuff.”

Erisine laughed. “I can imagine.” She sobered again, then said quietly, “I _am_ sorry you got stuck with this. I don't really understand how it all works, but I've had a voice in my head, even if it wasn't a ghost of the Force or whatever. It's not easy.”

“You've had a voice in your head?”

She waved a hand. “Weird – brain stuff. Side effect of the programming. Turns out the human brain doesn't respond very well to external control being forced on it.” She huffed a half-hearted laugh and added dryly, “Can't _imagine_ how that might apply to Vaylin.”

A vague sense of disapproval from Valkorion floated through Garen's mind. She ignored it, again. “I do wonder how much it was his... choking control on her that turned her into this,” Garen admitted softly. “I wouldn't blame her for rebelling, against _that._ Even if she's taken it much too far.”

Erisine pursed her lips. “No. I can't blame her for that much either.” She looked down, staring blindly over the railing for a long stretch of silence. “Garen, I don't want you to feel like I don't care that I'm putting you at risk. If I didn't think you could beat her...”

Garen reached out to touch Erisine's elbow lightly, just a brush of fingertips. “I know,” she assured her. “I wouldn't use it even if you'd told me to. It's not right.”

Erisine snorted. “Telling your superior you'd disobey a direct order? Brave.”

Garen let a smile crinkle her face. “A Jedi never lies.”

“I think the Barsen'thor would disagree,” Erisine replied, smiling back. She shrugged her arm away from Garen slightly, and Garen took her cue to withdraw her hand from where it still lay against Erisine's elbow. “It's good, I think. To have people willing to push back against me and tell me when I'm wrong. That's one thing the Empire was never good at. Perhaps the Alliance can do better.”

Garen looked out again over Odessen, over the dock below. “We'll pull it off,” she promised. “We'll beat Vaylin. And we'll set things right. All of us, together.”

Erisine nodded. “I hope you're right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's taken a few rounds of editing, for once, rather than just being "I finish, I post. to do more is beyond my nature" xD
> 
> I'm still kind of figuring out how to write Valkorion and Garen and how that whole *waves hands* _thing_ works, so forgive any awkwardness in the writing of that. There's a one-shot in my head with Garen and Duserra/Nox that should help me hash that out better and be feelsy at the same time. If I ever get it on paper. (Which now I have to, because I've mentioned it to the public. _Take that, procrastination demon!_
> 
> This is actually pretty much the first time I've had Garen and Eris interact for a significant period of time, and I've started putting more thought into how they interact and their relationship dynamic as a result, which has been fun.


End file.
